"Do you have plans for when you leave here?" Jamison asked.
"Nothing special. I'll probably stop by the store on the way home and pick up one of those salad kits so I'll have something to eat tonight. Blossom is at Manuel's working on wedding stuff."
Hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. "I do remember him telling me they were meeting tonight. I believe they finally decided on which food truck they're going to have for the reception."
"Which one?" I asked.
"Both." He grimaced.
"You don't like the food truck idea, do you?"
"No, I don't. I would much prefer a traditional sit-down reception with catering. I offered to help pay for it, but my son refused. They want to do the food truck thing, and he said he could afford the cost. Can you believe those kids?"
"Well..." I hedged, and he stared at me in disbelief.
"Don't tell me you think the food trucks are a good idea?" He sounded appalled.
"Using them has become more popular nowadays, and they’re a cost-effective way for couples to cater their weddings. I think it would be kind of fun and represents the special moment when they met."
"I never thought I'd be standing in line at a food truck at a wedding," he grumbled. "But never let it be said that Jamison Harris isn't flexible."
"I'm so proud of you," I teased.
"I've come a long way, haven't I?"
I giggled. "Yes, you have. We both have."
I enjoyed his dry sense of humor, and at random times during the day, I laughed to myself when I remembered one of his sarcastic remarks. We both wanted the best for our kids and were devoted to work that helped people. Could that be why these nights have felt so comfortable? Because we were kindred spirits, in a way? Kindred spirits looking for peace, calm, and no drama.
I was going to miss this strange but easygoing camaraderie that had developed between us.
"Good night!" Carmen strolled by, waving.
"Good night," Jamison and I returned.
Silence fell between us again as we watched her climb into a Mercedes coupe and drive away. We were the last ones in the parking lot, noticeably lingering.
"I should probably go..." I played with the bracelets on my left wrist.
His eyes followed the movement of my fingers. "You know, I was thinking about how our kids insulted us by saying neither one of us could dance."
"I'm still not sure I've forgiven Blossom."
"Because you thought you could dance. I knew I couldn't, but I didn't like Manuel pointing out my flaw. Anyway, I was thinking about what Carmen has said every night. She encouraged us to practice outside of class. Have you been practicing?"
"Not really," I admitted. "Maybe one or two steps here or there, but nothing serious."
"Me either. Practicing without a partner is difficult."
"True," I said, nodding.
"How about we meet up on our own? You could come by my place for dinner, and we could practice our steps to make sure we have them down."
My heart leapt excitedly. "When were you thinking?"
"How about Saturday night?"
"Do you know how to cook?"
